


People Do It Every Day

by callmejude



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hallucinations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmejude/pseuds/callmejude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All professors that were hires from the Kaiju War are required weekly therapy sessions, but Hermann never has much to talk about. He was never in the center of the action. Aside from Drifting with a kaiju, his previous job really wasn’t much different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	People Do It Every Day

“I’m hungry.”

“Then go to the dining hall, Newton, I’m trying to work.”

Newton’s hand waves in front of his face, obscuring his book. “Newton, I’m quite busy. As you should be, too. Don’t you have a lecture to prepare as well?”

Newton laughs. “I’m done.”

Hermann rolls his eyes. “You always say that, and yet I never see you working. No wonder no one takes your classes anymore.”

Newton smiles. “Let’s go to lunch, Hermann. You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“There’s no way you could possibly know that,” Hermann grumbles, but his stomach rumbles at the realization that he’s right. He sets his book down with a sigh. “All right, but then will you let me work?”

“Sure thing, old man.”

“You’re six months younger than me.”

They sit at the same table they always do, off in the corner, away from everyone else. “I thought you said you were hungry,” Hermann says as he sets down his tray to see Newton sitting empty-handed.

Newton smiles and grabs a corner of Hermann’s sandwich off of his plate. “Starving, thank you.”

Hermann rolls his eyes.

They eat in silence for a moment. “How come we never sit over by the other humans, Hermann?”

Hermann shrugs. “They never seem very fond of me.”

“Maybe if you stop scowling all the time…”

“You don’t have to sit with me if you don’t like,” Hermann says pointedly. “Go sit with them if you want.”

Newton looks at him, then shrugs. “Eh. You’re the only one who talks to me.”

“Maybe if you stopped being so weird,” Hermann says, copying Newton’s earlier tone.

“No fun in that,” Newton says with a grin, swiping a baby carrot off Hermann’s tray.

“I thought you said you’d let me work if I took you to lunch,” Hermann grumbles as Newton follows him back into his office.

“Hey, I’m gonna help,” Newton says, “I’ll be quiet, I promise. I’m just bored.”

“You should probably do some of your own work,” Hermann responds flippantly, cracking open the spine of one of his own texts. Newton just laughs at him.

Newton actually manages to keep his promise and be more helpful than he is loud and distracting. He does most days, at least after he drags Hermann to the dining halls to pay for all his meals.

And as with most days, his helpfulness runs out by midnight. “Hermann I’m tired.”

“I cannot fathom why, have you done anything all day?”

Newton huffs and spreads out over the sofa in Hermann’s office. “I’m serious Hermann lets go home.”

“Newton, I really have to finish this.”

“No you don’t, you set up your lecture for tomorrow. Work on that later, come on. I’m exhausted and you look like you’re about to fall asleep sitting up.”

Hermann sighs. Newton is awfully belligerent when he wants things a certain way. Now that he’s set on going home, Hermann isn’t going to get any work done until he concedes. He gets to his feet and grabs his cane. “All right, all right. Home.”

All professors that were hires from the Kaiju War are required weekly therapy sessions, but Hermann never has much to talk about. He was never in the center of the action. Aside from Drifting with a kaiju, his previous job really wasn’t much different.

“How’ve you been this week, Dr. Gottlieb?” Vanessa asks. She’s already jotting something down on her paper, and Hermann wonders what it could possibly be when he hasn’t even said a word to her. “Eating well? How’s your sleeping pattern?”

“Yes well, Newton usually gets his way in those matters. I suppose both are rather regular.”

Vanessa writes something else, and Hermann entertains the thought that she is simply doodling in the margins of her notes. “Are you saying you need Dr. Geiszler’s persistence in order to take care of yourself?” she asks. Hermann makes a face.

“I’m perfectly capable of doing that on my own,” he answers, his voice sharper than he really intends it to be.

Vanessa nods. “I don’t doubt that, Dr. Gottlieb, but I think you do.”

With nothing else to really bring up, the sessions always turn into discussions about his relationship with Newton, and Hermann always leaves them nervously twisting the ring on his left finger. He doesn’t ever like the implications they leave him with.

He doesn’t need Newton for anything, he tries to explain, but it’s so hard to do so to people who have never Drifted, have never shared their mind so completely with another person. He doesn’t _need_ Newton, but Newton reminds him. He’s there for him and makes sure he’s okay. Hermann does the same for him.

He wonders if it’s the same in Newton’s sessions, but every time he asks Newton answers teasingly, “Hey, doctor-patient confidentiality, man. Don’t be a snoop.”

Whenever Hermann mentions anything he talks about in sessions, Newton doesn’t say anything. Sometimes he reaches out and takes his hand, or kisses him on the forehead, but any words that come out of his mouth are always a change of subject.

They’ve been working at the university for about two years when Hermann’s session with Vanessa takes an unexpected turn. “We need to talk about this Wednesday,” she says, her voice really gentle, the way it is when she’s trying to get Hermann to say something she knows he doesn’t want to say.

Hermann doesn’t know what she could be talking about. This Wednesday doesn’t seem as if it’s going to be any different from any other Wednesday, as far as he can tell. “Sorry?”

“September seventeenth, Doctor Gottlieb. I’d like you to come in and see me.”

“Why?”

She writes something down on her pad, and Hermann frowns. “What’s happening on the seventeenth? I don’t understand, our sessions have always been on Mondays, once a week. I’m not sure what it is you want to talk about with me.”

“I’m afraid I cannot discuss the nature at the end of our session, Dr. Gottlieb, please just clear your calendar.”

Hermann nods.

“Vanessa wants to see me on Wednesday,” Hermann tells Newton as they’re getting out of the car. “She says it’s important. Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?”

Newton shrugs and takes his hand. “Do you?”

Hermann shakes his head, but frowns. It isn’t like Newton to ask questions about his sessions. “Not - do you want to talk about this?”

Newton smiles. “Do you?” He repeats, his voice teasing.

Hermann grunts. “Not really,” he answers honestly, “I just don’t understand what it is she thinks is so important. She said the date as if it should mean something.”

“Well, for a guy who’s great with numbers, you’re pretty terrible with dates. Is it your birthday?”

“My birthday is in June,” Hermann answers flatly. Newton opens his mouth, but before he can say anything Hermann adds, “And yours is in January. As is,” he starts again when Newton still looks like he has something to say, “our anniversary.”

Newton grins. “Aw, you _do_ care.”

Hermann rolls his eyes. “I just don’t know what could possibly be so important she can’t wait until next Monday,” he says.

Newton takes his hand again, leans forward on the balls of his feet and kisses his temple. “Let’s make macaroni and cheese for dinner. I wanna stay in.”

Hermann doesn’t protest.

As they crawl into bed that night, Newton presses up against him as completely as he can and mumbles, “I love you,” into Hermann’s neck. They don’t often sleep this way, but Hermann revels in the few times they do, falling asleep to the sound of Newton’s muffled snoring into his shoulder.

Strangely enough, Newton wants to stay in the next day as well. Newton usually can’t stand to be cooped up in the house too long, but the past two days have been almost entirely spent in Hermann’s office or the house. “We can order a pizza, right?” Newton asks, “Or something, it doesn’t have to be pizza. Let’s just get delivery.”

“We can go out and get pizza, if you want,” Hermann assures him, “I don’t mind.”

“No,” Newton says, his voice strangely firm, “No, let’s curl up with a monster movie or something. I’m really not feeling eating in something that isn’t my pajamas on something that isn’t my couch.”

Hermann finds it strange, but nods. Far be it from him to refuse a night in when Newton allows it. Usually he’s so glaringly insistent about going out where there are people and things to do and Hermann can really only take so much.

They order sushi and watch _Godzilla vs. Mothra,_ because it’s Newton’s favourite.

The movie’s only twenty minutes in when Newton finishes his meal and turns to Hermann, crawling into his lap and kissing him.

It isn’t like Newton to distract himself from monster movies, even ones he’s seen over a hundred times, but Hermann doesn’t question it, letting Newton pull off his clothes and curl up against his skin, kissing every inch he can.

They don’t have sex, just lay together on the couch as Newton touches him, kisses him, tells him everything he loves about him. The movie is over and Newton is still pressed against him, touching his face and his chest, kissing his neck.

Hermann remembers him doing this once before, about a year ago. Hermann had been upset then, but he can’t remember why. He isn’t upset now. He puts a hand in Newton’s hair. “Newt,” he whispers, “What’s wrong?”

Newton kisses him instead of answering. “Nothing,” he says finally, but he sounds so strained. “Nothing’s wrong, it’s all going to be fine, I promise. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Newton,” Hermann can feel his heart thudding in his chest. He’s lying, and something is wrong and he knows what it is, he knows, but it doesn’t make sense. “Newton, are you crying?”

Newton shakes his head. He’s smiling, but he looks hurt, worried. “No, Hermann, that’s you.”

It doesn’t make sense, none of this makes sense. Hermann grabs onto Newton’s wrist and tugs, listening to him whisper calmly into his hair.

“It’s okay, Hermann, I’m here, I’ll always be here, it’s okay.”

“No,” Hermann hears himself say, but it doesn’t make sense even as the words come out of his mouth, “No, you aren’t - you’re not.”

_”We’re sorry, Dr. Geiszler,”_

Newton shakes his head. “It’s okay, Hermann, you’re okay. You can always Drift for me, remember? Always. It’s okay.”

“ _No it isn’t!_ ” Hermann can’t breathe. He hears blood roaring in his ears. “No - no, I can’t - don’t leave me.”

Newton shushes him and kisses his forehead. “I won’t,” he says gently.

_”The neural overload from your first Drift has caused some irreparable damage. When coupled with a second Drift not even 24 hours later...shared load or not, it was too much.”_

Hermann is shaking. “You - you already...Don’t lie to me, don’t you dare -” It’s too hard to keep talking. He isn’t even there. There’s nothing to say to an empty room.

_”Four months?”_

_“At most, Dr. Geiszler, you must understand. You are going to die before the new year.”_

Newton is wrapped around him, but the more Hermann concentrates on him the less he can feel. “Please don’t leave me,” Hermann babbles, “Please, I was - I was lying, I need you, I still need you.”

“C’mon, Hermann,” Newton says, smiling lopsidedly at him, “We had twelve years, that’s a long time.”

“I hated you for ten of those,” Hermann argues, his throat tight.

Newton grins at him. “No you didn’t.”

It’s true, and Hermann can feel a sob threatening at the back of his throat. “No,” he manages, shaking his head, “I didn’t, I.” He can hardly breathe, his hands are shaking and clenched in Newton’s hair. “I loved you. I love you. Don’t leave.”

“Hermann,” Newton says gently, “I already have.”

Hermann throws himself into the bathroom and retches in the toilet. Everything goes black.

The next morning, Hermann wakes up alone. He calls into work, and they tell him to take as much time as he needs. Hermann doesn’t want to think about time. He hangs up.

It takes all the effort he has to go in for his session with Vanessa. He must look terrible, because she greets him tenderly, and sits him down as quickly as she can. “Dr. Gottlieb,” she says, “I take it you remember what today is.”

“Yes,” Hermann says, looking at his shoes. “My husband died a year ago today.”

She nods, looking as if she might cry. “And when did-”

“Last night,” Hermann says before she can finish. He doesn’t want to know the way she’ll word it. Doesn’t want to hear Newton referred to as a delusion or hallucination. He was real. He had been a real, solid, living person who had risked his life to save the world. He didn’t deserve that.

“He’d gone so suddenly,” Hermann says as he recalls it, “He hadn’t even had time to get sick. Just one day it was headaches and then two months later he was gone.”

Vanessa nods. She writes something down. Hermann doesn’t care what it is anymore.

He talks for well past an hour, recanting everything that had happened in the past year, since Victory Day, since meeting Newton Geiszler, and Vanessa lets him. When he finally leaves, he shuts the door behind him and idly spins the ring on his left finger.

With a sigh, he heads home.

He never finished _Godzilla vs. Mothra_.

**Author's Note:**

> ehh September's a tough month for me in general and this year had some extra shit to it, so I wrote some death fic for the first time in years. I don't usually kill characters and I hate doing it and I'm not very good at it anyway, so don't worry, it will most likely never ever happen again.
> 
> Title is actually part of a quote from Fight Club. haha, see what I did there? Yeah, I upset myself.


End file.
